


The Summer Country

by Noirkatrose



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), The Summer King - Fandom
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Fae & Fairies, Families of Choice, Hopeful Ending, I tried to avoid it as much as possible, M/M, but - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 07:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20206249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noirkatrose/pseuds/Noirkatrose
Summary: When one wishes to save a friend, one should probably remember that they are owed a boon by the High King. Jon could have done without the reminder.





	1. Statement of

Statement of Mrs. Renee Stephens regarding a rather curious child, original statement July 2008.   
Recorded by Archival Assistant Martin Blackmore.

I'm not quite sure what year that young man started with us, but it was towards my retirement- I remember thinking I started with his mother and I'm finishing with him. 50 odd years of teaching and I taught several generations but those two stick out the most to me. I think you'll find, if you ask anyone from town, that the whole family...is different.

I’m not making much sense now am I? Ill start at the beginning, that will help. I started there in 1956 as a primary teacher but had done 2 years just north in a small school so I'd heard all about Ms. Malley. She was- well, a two hundred years ago she'd be hung or burned or both Id suspect. She lived out of town on a plot with everything she needed and more besides. I was told that she'd learned nursing in the war and combined it her knowledge of the land. But what everyone knew was if you were on her good side, your family, land, and stock would flourish. If you were on her bad side- well, you didn’t want that. 

They told stories of her serving as a midwife to all and sunder, including the fae. And given the lack of a Mr. Malley, everyone assumed that's where her little girl came from, not that it was said out loud. A sweeter child you'd never meet, until she was riled. Then it was like- have you ever seen a Scottish wildcat backed into a corner? Add some kittens and that would be a good description. A temper that would but an Irish sailor to shame, teeth and nails a bit too sharp, and her eyes glinted like a fire through ice. I'd only heard stories until I started there that fall, and the girl was maybe 6 or 7 then? She would have been, I'd had the year 3s and her my second year. 

The first time I met the 2 Malley's was quite nice actually. They came to drop off some housewarming gifts. A pie and some meat I believe, along with the most delicious cordial. I still get that cordial mind, even now. They introduced themselves and if I remember correctly, we discussed small town gossip and the increase in cats in the area. They suggested I put out milk for them and I did. I never had mice, so I guess it did some good now didn't it? But 'I’m off track again. 

That young girl, she was something. Very quick and clever but could often be found staring off into the woods with a strange longing. She was the very definition of fey that little girl, and she never outgrew it. Moved northwest as soon as she could and married some lad nearly as odd as the Malley's by the sounds of it. I didn't think much of it other then to ask briefly after her whenever I saw Ms. Malley. 

Then. Then was the accident. Id been on hols up north when it happened and it was a massive upset, not just the death of the young couple but that was the first- and last I believe- time Ms. Malley left town. It was also the first year in a long time it flooded, which caused no end of trouble. But it all settled when she returned with the young boy.

Less like his mom he was, a young man who'd seen too much and was very traumatized. Rather be inside in a beam of sun with a book the anything that child. He hated the dark, and the rain. But otherwise none of the oddities you saw with his mother even if Ms. Malley had us all sworn not to let him near the woods. I should mention here that I never knew his name, we called him Jo Malley, Ms. Malley called him Addy, but I have no idea if we knew his last name? Must have done. Just can't recall it.

Then there was an incident when he was eight, I believe? That year we had frost in May and snow in June of all things! Which just compounded everything and by the time I had him in year 6 he'd jump at the whisper of a shadow. This continued until Christmas. The students were out of school and running around when I saw it. A young girl I suppose, red haired and lanky. I assumed she was on hols and only really marked her because she seemed more vibrant then everything. I wouldn’t have thought anymore of it if she hadn’t walk right up to Jo and took his hand. You must understand, Jo didn’t like contact so for him not to violently protest was strange, as was the fact that he just went.

Well I soon saw Ms. Malley and when I mentioned it to her, she went pale. And I mean white. She dropped her shopping and just took off. I didn’t see either of then til the start of the next year and Jo- Jo was just like his mother. That shy, timid boy became outspoken, irate, and vibrant. The only thing left was his voracious appetite for books. When his temper went, nobody could calm him down and whenever that redhaired girl visited he was just missing. And thing continued this way until he left, to Oxford? Or maybe Cambridge. No. I’m sure Ms. Malley said Oxford. I retired last year you see and came up here away from the sea. So, I started and ended with the Malley's, and while I don’t think that this is quite your thing I though I'd stop in and tell you my tale. That young redhead who delivers my milk mentioned that she thought I should. 

Anyways, Ill wrap this up now as I’m soon to be late for tea and if I’m not there at the start the ladies in my book club always forget to order my tea without milk!  
Renee Stephens


	2. Waking

There are many ways to pass from one world to the next. Jon’s preferred method was to catch a boat, or maybe a nice walk over the causeway if the time was right. Waking up lying by a mound over hill was not a good method as he had no desire to be on the receiving end of the owner’s wrath. It took a bit to find his feet but he slowly stumbled towards the trees. Once reached he continued wandering, avoiding what he could or paying when needed. Sasha had once commented on his tendency to carry random bits on his person and then Tim had. 

Tim

He lost his balance and fell down and down while his mind filled up with memories that he would rather not have, wax figures and twisted skins, and a face looking at his as he screamed with his mind, his heart that this was what he wanted for his boon, for this person to not to go- not to fade.

He lay on the sand? That he had fallen into. Slowly, painfully, he pulled himself up and looked down. His hand was scarred, and he could see burns and circles dotting his skin where they hadn’t before and a crooked smile passed over his face as he realized that he’d crossed involuntarily and hadn’t held his form as a teen as was his wont. And he deserved this- to look like he had failed. He stared down so long he didn’t realize she was there til the scent filled his nose- whiskey and sea. 

“Well Mo Chara, are you going to look up?” 

He flinched before he dragged his eyes up the figure in front of him. Grace O’Malley. He remembered Meredith once saying that nobody quite knew how it worked, how she could pass between worlds as a fisherwoman or as a pirate captain but be one or neither. Laurel usually laughed at their confusion, while others would try to explain it.

His thoughts were interrupted again by a low throaty laugh “Still in your head boy, how on earth are you to do anything locked up like that?”

Jon took a ragged breath at that, Tim’s recriminations and Martins henning suddenly filling his head.

Grace tsked before reaching out a pulling him up into a hug and Jon froze before relaxing into the hold of someone who didn’t mean him harm for once. They stood there for some time before Jon pulled back and gave Grace a weak smile. 

“So, umm. May I ask what you’re doing here.”

She gave him a sharp glance nut let him go. “I came to tell you your favour was extended.”

Jon stared at her for a moment in confusion. “Sorry, what?”

“Well, you wanted so much for him to survive and you know as well as I that when a changeling in favour asks a favour it’s up to the King. And as he’s your family...”

Jon’s confusion slowly cleared as Grace spoke before he caught what she was saying. “Wait, Tim?”

“I am given to understand he is in between”

“What? But I- “

She held up a hand to stop him. “Your friend is not touched in anyway by faerie. Other then yourself he has never been touched. That means that you need to find him to bring him here.”

“I have to find him? That’s it?”

Grace smiled before looking out to the sea and Jon followed her gaze. “I’m just passing along what I was told to, you are going to have to find the forgotten.” 

Jon turned back towards her, but she was already gone. “The forgotten? What’s that suppose to mean?”


	3. Dawn

If there was one thing Georgie hated (and she wondered occasionally- is this what fear is?) it was talking to Jon's Grandmother. Not that she'd ever met her as the old woman never left the coast, but the disapproval came very clearly down the line whenever they spoke on the phone. But Jon, Jon was dead-not dead? Whatever, the old lady had to be called and since nobody seemed to have done it in the past few months Georgie decided it would have to be her. So she dug out her address book, found the number and called from the waiting room. It rang out to a generic message and after a slight pause she just mentioned that something had happened, and could she return the call?

That would have to work.


	4. Overcast

Ms. Malley came in late the day Georgie called her. The poor girl, all fearless and yet still unable to understand why she couldn’t stand Ms. Malley, never mind how many times they met. The phone call was strange and when she called back she got the coma ward at some London hospital. 

Sitting down after calling everyone she could to go see her only grandchild, she turned to stare across the farm towards the ocean, willing the old magic to give her a sign. She closed her eyes and pictured him, curled up in a corner with one of the books they’d found (and oh how she regretted trying to raise him to be normal. She had found traces of that book afterwards and if she’d just checked before hand-) she opened her eyes and glanced at the mantle, her eyes catching on a photo of her Addy, grinning at the camera, the red head next to him smiling with too many teeth. Ah, Meredith and Jonathan. The two of them had driven her, Overhill, and Underhill crazy over the years, from the Christmas they first met to whatever insanity they had been up too last time they’d both been here. 

That Christmas had been harrowing, the first time they’d run off. Meredith looking for a friend to help get her home and finding a member of one of the winter courts families had just been the icing on the cake for young summer princess. She’d chased the pair from Bournemouth to Ireland and still not been in time to stop Her boy from entering the shadowlands. At least he’d come back whole and hale. Even if his curiosity had become near insatiable.


	5. Warning

Pausing after work to see if Georgie had stopped by yet, maybe get a little cathartic yelling in, and to see if Martin had done something was the first moment she realized something was wrong. Well, other then Jon and... - well this was different. Melanie hadn't though there was anyone else for Jon other then Georgie (she was sure that he was orphaned) so who was the pale blond next to him? Reading to him? Pausing in the doorway she knocked quietly, and the women glanced up before going back to reading. The first thing Melanie saw was a scar, followed by a sense of age and otherness that was strange. The only thing she could think of was when they’d filmed in some out of the way part in North London that had a history of pranksters. The sense of otherness grew when she noticed that the women’s voice was husky as it spoke an almost lyrical language that she didn't recognize. Everything inside of her wanted to leave- to flee that room and the feeling grew.  
It was abruptly interrupted when the women finally stopped and turned-

"I was expecting Georgie, but I suppose you'll do." and the room snapped back into focus. Melanie stumbled back a step before meeting the blonde’s eyes. The woman was mid thirties or so, and although she could have sworn there was something wrong with the impression, that’s what she saw. "I’m Honor, and you are?"

"Melanie- I'm sorry, who are you?"

"A friend of the family- I was closest so when Georgie called, I came as soon as I could."

Melanie paused at this as she was sure that Jon's family was gone-

"I’m sure Meredith will be here soon as well; Jon and she were always close." Honor continued as she stood up, "But I have places to be so I will leave Jon to your- care." The glance made Melanie feel like she was 5 inches tall as the woman kissed Jon's forehead before vanishing out of the room and down the hall.

After a few moments Melanie sat down hard on the chair staring out into the hallway trying to make sense of what just happened when a movement from the corner of her eye caused her to spin back to the bed where she continued staring in disbelief as Jon took one breath, followed by another before he ceased again.


	6. morning

Forgotten. The in between. Why the hell couldn’t Grace’s hints be less vague and more helpful. Here he was, on a beach somewhere in maybe Ireland? While a confusing quest (although straightforward was not a fae thing at all so maybe-)

“Argh. Ok, I have 1 hint, a final goal, and- “a quick glance around showed a rise in the distance- “A vantage point!” A second closer look showed nobody near by so he slowly started toward the rise. As he walked, he looked about carefully but saw no familiar landmarks or anything to help him identify anything. It was also becoming obvious that the rise was much further away then anticipated. And walking cross country trying to avoid the various lands was slowing him down even further and while he had no desire to follow a fairy path, a creek or river would be nice to follow up stream.

With a plan in mind Jon began to look for signs and following them found his river. Fast a turbulent it flowed, so he turned upstream and continued on.   
By the time he reached to hill he was soaking wet from a run in with a kelpie (he’d seen a horse and instead of bowing and walking on he’d forgotten every lesson ever taught and approached the damn thing- he was lucky a soaking was all he’d gotten his or he’d never have heard the end of it from Meredith. Thankfully the lord of the river had been feeling playful and while he was now wet, he also had another clue. Not that he didn’t have enough puzzles to solve did he?


	7. Overcast

Meredith paused in the entrance to the hospital room, glancing past the figure on the bed to the nervous one in the chair. She could almost taste his unease as he attempted to look everywhere but a card on the table with a strange lighthouse on it. The light house was clearly sitting in a sea of fog in the middle of a field of all things but what did she know? It could be a cute kichny thing based on Puck for all she knew. Humans.  
Speaking of them- “who makes a flower arrangement with nightshade.”

Then next moment would have been comical if she had been trying to do the poor boy harm but as it stood she kicked the chair by the door towards him causing him to flail into it instead of the corner of the bed. After he regained his seat Meredith sat carefully down into the monstrosity on her side until she realized that yes, it was metal free. This meant she could slouch to her hearts content so after tucking her feet up she did just that and waited. 

And as always, curiosity eventually won out.

“Umm, hi- err, who are you exactly.”

“Meredith.”

“Meredith?”

A glance across showed his nerves were well and truly fraying so instead of toying she smiled with an average number of teeth “Yes, like whatever silly movie you are thinking of. And you must be…Martin, am I correct?”

“Oh. Well, yes- what exactly are you doing here?”

“Keeping an eye out.” 

She couldn’t help her smile this time at his suddenly tense posture. Part of her want to reassure him while the other more pragmatic side that had dealt with her family’s predilections for too long knew better then to coddle him. Whatever mess her fiorchara was in, this Martin was in just as deep. But she was too human still to play with him.

“You know that there is always a balance right?” That got her a strange side eye. “A friend had told me we carry both light and dark, and the contest depends on ourselves and those around us.”

He blinked several times before glancing back towards the strange card, then to Jon. “But what if you-you don’t know who’s winning?”

“Well then, you listen to the eagles.”

“What?” And for the first time he looked directly at her. Meredith caught her breath as she saw the confusion and guilt mixing with some other, nameless emotion in his eyes. For a moment she could see twisting visions, threads of the path that this man before could take. Some lead to fog, others to marionettes. But mixed into them were images of smiles and love. And so- “When you come to the edge of all that you know, you must believe one of two things: there will be ground to stand on…or you will grow wings to fly.”


	8. Clearing

"So. Forgotten. How are you forgotten?" Jon looked around. It was fairly clear he was on an Island of some sort (and he had a sinking feeling he knew which one) and whatever had been forgotten was here, somewhere. Between the rock and the climb, he had been able to think without feeling watched or judged or anything. So obviously the Beholding couldn’t see here, which meant that while there was fear here (and you’d have to be insane not to feel fear around beings as fickle and capricious as the members of the courts.) but the Fears were here, or they hadn't been able to keep a foothold here. Although, maybe they were still part of it. The Summer King would be a great example of slaughter. Sometimes. Other times he was probably better as desolation. Or just Fae. Jon vividly remembered when he first ventured here, helping Meredith home through the shadowlands (neither knowing there were other ways, other gates), picking their way through battlefields and graveyards, hiding from the things that still lived and fought and died there. The sky was constantly full of shadows- writhing and sliding. Latter he would learn that is was made up of those who had become trapped there, which only made the experience worse. And even when they had crossed into faerie itself the way had been fraught.

And come to think of it- "One would think watching Maude destroy and consume her traitors would be more terrifying then a murder pig or a wax person."

"Well, Maude is mad."

"Yes, you have a poinnttt!' Jon spun and looked around wildly for the source of the voice.

"Down laddie."

Jon prayed for patience before looking down and seeing cluricaun at his feet. "Shite."

"Oi! That no way to be! You’re already let, lets get a move on." and with that he turned a stomped away down the hill aiming for the bay.

"I’m on Hy Brasil aren’t I."

"Yes, you are. Do you know what’s forgotten yet?"

"Other then its not seven years so it can’t be the flame, no. I’m still working on it."

"I'd hurry, were almost there."

"Wha-" But as they came down and around into a bay he hadn't seen from the hill he could here it. Horns and screams blending together to create a song that only the shadowlands could make. But this was the Mound. There was no way for the shadowlands unless they were seeping through? Suddenly the words of the water horse came back- "When they fall, the feathers slice and scatter." So what if when the battle took place and the pyre lit something else happened? He hurried pass the little man and into view of the beach. Before him the land lay decimated, torn into furrows and pits, bodies strew and corpse half hidden as the old ones continued, pulling the folk around them into the fight. and scattered about lay forgotten golden feathers.

Jon turned back to the cluricaun. "If we gather the feathers will the door close?"

"Yer going to have to destroy them but yes."

Jon grimaced, no wonder this was his task. The folk who tried to stop it would get pulled into the madness, while he already had been touch by the shadows and for all intents and purposes was still mortal. And this was for Tim. 

"Fine." And while that he slipped into the melee. 

When Jon had first started at the Institute he had wondered while so many of the things they investigated seemed...human? To be hunted, watched, and stolen sounded like things the fae were more likely to do. But he had a working theory now- so far as he could tell, the fear enties had started when the wild hunt couldn't run with all the metal. He didn't know quite how it had to do with each other but as he slipped from quiet desolation to ear-piercing rage collecting feathers he wondered. He ducked swords and axes, weave through arrows and bodies and tried not to watch as the hounds tore apart a small sidhe still living. He placed the feathers in a pile and stole a torch from a maithe and watched as the flames drove the shadows back. And as they vanished from where they had come he saw a hand covered in small circular scars. So Jon grabbed it and pulled.


	9. Not a cloud til the horizon

One advantage to being considered both a murderer twice over and a possible section 31 just waiting to happen (as if he hadn’t happened already) was being stuck directly into solitary and left to his own devices. And thanks to knowing people in high places and higher circles, that solitary was less stark and more- relaxing. All in all, it made for a wonderful place to keep an eye on things from. 

And with Peter swanning about like- well like a swanning pirate- it made for brilliant watching. He could pop over and see statements on repeat in his Archivists dreams for an appetizer, then glance at the archive for a full 5 course meal. HR was in turmoil, truing to fix the many issues so many missing employees could cause, artefact storage had a massive overload (and that was so...filling to watch so many statements in the making). The researchers were in a bit of disarray, but someone should have that sorted soon, and the Archives. Ohh, it was just too fun to watch Barisa try to solve the problem of the coffin, and Melanie- her anger would be very useful later so watching her just keep bottling it was perfect. And Martin. Oh, Peter was going to have so much fun with Martin. He was nearly at his breaking point never mind that it wouldn’t do anything but bring him closer to his final goal. 

Everything was going smoothly towards the finish line, just so long as everyone played their part as they had been. 

Slipping back into his archivists dream he smiled as he watched some poor man try to run from a hunter. He looked over his shoulder and froze. Where was his archivist? A quick spin turned up no Jon Sims to be found which was incredible, considering whose dreams they were in! This had never happened before, even Gertrude had always watched. So where the hell was Jonathan Sims?


	10. Rain

"You know, this wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. Little less weird, little more Danny."

Jon glanced over at Tim as they watched the feathers burn. "Well, I didn’t want you to be...nightmare fodder?" he winced, that was definitely not what he had meant, and he braced for a bitter response. 

"Well- I guess thanks for that then."

Jon turned towards Tim in disbelief. He had expected yelling, recriminations, demands to be somewhere else or to have Danny here or anything but this... Apathy. 

Tim caught his stare and a tired smile passed over his face. "I think you’ll do enough punishing of yourself boss man. Am I happy that I’m not stuck in some weird fear nightmare anymore? Yes. Do I want Danny here with me? Yes, I do. But you didn’t. You didn’t know Danny and while you listened to that statement I never talked about him. And. I don’t know if you realized this Jon, but you care about 'your' people. And its just a you thing- but what I mean is you didn’t want to loss someone after Sasha," They both paused, "And I can respect that. Besides, they said if I helped I could maybe, maybe see him."

Jon looked towards the golden eagles "Just remember that even if we can’t lie, we can lie with the truth Tim. Please remember that."

"Only if you accept that you care about something other than research and truth and mysteries."

Jon blinked "What?"

"You felt so horrible about Sasha that you literally used a favour owed to you by Magic to save me."

"Wha-well-"

"Face it boss, you like friends."

"Cats. I like Cats."

"No, I think you like friends. You can be whatever you want but you, you like having connections and taking care of those connections."

"I."

"Did I just render Jonathan Sims silent?"

"Tim."

"What?"

"Stop. Just- I. It takes a bit. I only ever had Gran and Meredith and she- she is family. Even Georgie couldn’t."

"Couldn’t what?"

"We just didn’t work."

"Cause you’re like a cat."

"What?!"

"You are possessive over yours. You want attention but on your terms. In essence, a cat."

"."

"Yup. And given Martin's ability to feed you, and give you tea, and the right amount of attention..."

"Tim!"


	11. Red sunset

Martin worried. His talk with Meredith had made him feel better about what he was going to do but still. 

But he needed to do this, he needed Jon and everyone safe. He just needed them safe. Standing up, he started up towards the office where he could find Peter. He knocked on the door and slipped in when a voice said enter. Glancing around brought no sing of Peter which was strange but.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

He jumped and started at the phone, as Peter answered it. There was an icy feeling to the room as Martin waited, idly listening as Peter made noises in the receiver. Which was the only reason he heard -seemed fine, but Mr. Sims did check himself out- This was the only contact information we had-" and for the first time in a long time his mind felt clear. He saw Peters shock as he turned and ran out the door, barely realizing that Peter was following before he was out onto the street and down the block looking for a cab when he nearly ran over Jon.


	12. Evening

Jon saw the bridge beginning to flicker into view as the last of the flames vanished. He turned towards Tim and found himself pulled into a hug.

"Don't. Don't say whatever you were going to ok? Just look after the rest of them and give Elias hell. Can you do that?"

Jon swallowed and nodded before pulling away and walking towards the bridge. A last glance showed just a clearing with the silhouettes of the eagles soaring higher. He smiled and stepped forward.

Waking up was much easier this time. Jon could smell antiseptic and hear beeping as he tried to pry this eyes open. A familiar hand helped him up and offered water and as his eyes finally unstuck he could see Meredith grinning at him. 

"What took so long?"

The room was filled with doctors and nurses and staff before he could respond. Some poking and prodding later and Jon found himself signing out AMA while Meredith smiled increasingly wider smiles at the poor souls in the waiting room. Then they walked out the door, a nurse scrounging for a phone number to call as requested. 

Meredith and Jon walked for a bit, exchanging gossip- Meredith claimed the Honor has scared Melanie and Jon denied Melanie would be scared of the nicest person they both knew, Jon commented on the presence of a kelpie on Hy Brasil and Meredith dragged the whole sorry tale out of him, then slapped him round the head. 

"Did, did Martin come see me?"

"Cute nervous one? Worried about lighthouses of all things?"

"Yes- wait, what lighthouse?"

"The card"

They stopped as Meredith fished it out of the bag and handed it to Jon. Jon glances at the cover then flipped it open and inside it said from Peter Lucas. He turned to flag down a taxi while Meredith grumbled about how it was her time. Jon glared before dragging her with him into the cab.

"So...whose this Lucas fellow?"

"His family sponsors the Institute."

"And you're worried about Martin and him because?" Jon glances sharply at Meredith and she laughed. " You immediately hailed a taxi to take us to your workplace rather than home. I don't need a, a whatever to tell me this."

"A mind?"

"Idiot. So, Lucas. Whats his deal?"

"Well, umm. He belongs to the lonely?"

"Jonathan, that makes no sense."

"I'll explain later, but right now we need to find Martin. I promised Tim Id look after them."

"And the blush?"

" What blush?" Jon quickly crawled out of the cab before Meredith could start teasing him. He paid before turning and nearly getting knocked of his feet by "Martin?"

Peter watched from a few steps back as Archivist and Assistant clung to each other in the middle of the sidewalk babbling away. This was going to cause some issues with their plans but it could still be salvaged he just had to... Peter felt a stab of painful warmth through his fog and as he looked around for the source he caught the redhead eyes and fell, hitting the pavement and he could feel people looking and seeing him and then just static. There were just too many teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> And here is some lovely art from KingOuija (Meredith)! - https://i.imgur.com/9MLo0tb.jpg


End file.
